


I wish you could see the wicked truth

by SpooKyra



Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Persona 5 Protagonist, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Top Akechi Goro, akechi competing with himself, top goro week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpooKyra/pseuds/SpooKyra
Summary: Akira goes to Mementos alone once a week, fights shadows to blow off some steam, and gets his brains fucked out of him by their enemy.Only this time, Akechi shows up in the wrong outfit.Day 2:Detective Prince VS Black Mask// Double Penetration // Cum Inflation
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Top Goro Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2127657
Comments: 10
Kudos: 143
Collections: TopGoroWeek #1 2021





	I wish you could see the wicked truth

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first top goro fic, I skipped day one but akira gets fucked twice so hopefully that makes up for it
> 
> Title taken from the other side of paradise by glass animals

He’s late. 

Well, it’s not exactly like they specified a time or place. Akira usually wanders Mementos, picking on low level shadows for pocket change until Black Mask locates and ambushes him. It’s been like that for weeks, enough time that they’ve developed a schedule of sorts: Akira goes to Mementos alone once a week, fights shadows to blow off some steam, and gets his brains fucked out of him by their enemy. Despite all this, he’s never had to wait long before Black Mask finds and utterly ravishes him.

He takes  out a few more shadows, then descends a floor to diminish the chances of running into the reaper. It’s just his luck that it turns out to be a waiting room; at least now he’ll be able to leave with minimal effort. He has his phone out and ready when he hears footsteps approaching. If Akira hadn’t already come to terms with his shame a few weeks after their chance encounter, he would’ve felt pathetic for perking up so easily for their enemy. He pockets his phone, briefly debates on whether or not he should tease him before the words are flying out of his mouth. “Couldn’t catch me this time could you—Crow…?”

He looks up and comes face to face with the ridiculously pointy red mask, watching as Akechi’s face briefly contorts from arrogance to shock before smoothing out into a plastic smile. “Fancy seeing you here, Joker,” he says easily. 

Akira stays quiet, thumbs the phone in his pocket and wonders if it’d be more mortifying to stay here or run away through the app. The latter choice is looking more and more tempting as they stand in awkward silence, the only problem being that Akechi knows where he lives. 

Akechi clears his throat. “Pardon me for asking, but what are you doing down here alone?”

“I could ask you the same,” he throws back. He sees Akechi’s eyes narrow ever so slightly and eyes him back with suspicion.

He laughs softly. “Ah, you caught me. To be honest, I saw you enter Mementos alone and followed shortly after.”

Akira hums. “So… You’re following me around now?” 

“What? No, of course not. I merely saw you at the station.” He crosses his arms. “Although I will admit that I am curious about what the leader of the Phantom Thieves is doing all alone here. You seemed to be waiting for someone, correct?”

Akira debates lying through his teeth, but it was  _ Akechi  _ he was dealing with and he’d already slipped up once. “I was,” he confirms.

Akechi raises a brow, obviously waiting for more. “May I ask who?” he presses when Akira stays silent.

He shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” Suddenly, Akechi is in front of him, crowding him against the wall. “Sneaking away from the others to meet someone alone at night… What could you be up to, Joker?” 

Akira channels as much as he can of Joker into his grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Akechi nudges his feet apart, pushes his knee between his thighs. Akira lets out a soft moan as he grinds against him, and he grabs at Akechi’s mask, desperately needing it off to get access to his lips. 

“You’re so needy,” Akechi teases him, tossing his mask aside. 

His lips are soft and gentle against Akira’s, but not fumbling with inexperience like he had imagined. It’s a sharp contrast from the rare, aggressive kisses he’s gotten while blindfolded, far more teeth and tongue that almost felt like Black Mask was trying to devour him rather than kiss him. Akira kind of feels guilty for missing that roughness. 

Akira tugs at Akechi’s hair, kissing back more fervently. Akechi takes the hint and pries his lips open, exploring the inside of his mouth, still too gentle for Akira’s liking. His hands travel up his chest, slipping Akira’s coat off his shoulders and tugging his turtleneck down to expose his collarbone. 

“Oh,” Akechi breathes out. He traces a finger over one of the dark bruises littering his skin. “It seems my deductions were correct.”

“Well you  _ are _ a detective,” Akira says, for lack of anything better.

“And yet, I can’t place my finger on who you’ve been seeing,” he laments, circling a particularly nasty bite, one that broke the skin. “None of the Phantom Thieves seem to be this... aggressive.”

Akira shrugs. It’s not exactly like he can just up and say  _ Hey remember that guy who almost killed you in the metaverse? He’s been fucking me for weeks now. _ “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does!” Akechi snaps at him. “My apologies,” he catches himself, “I simply do not wish to intrude on your, er, relationship.”

“You’re not,” Akira quickly reassures. He’s not even sure if what they have constitutes as a relationship. It did start out as an outlet for his seemingly unrequited feelings at the time after all. 

“Hm.”

Akechi’s sudden mood shift is kind of killing his boner, so naturally Akira tries to rectify this by grinding against him. He earns a strangled sound for his efforts, and Akechi grabs his hands, pinning them to the wall. 

“Are you  _ sure _ about this?” Akechi presses. “You  _ were _ waiting for someone else after all, wouldn’t you prefer them?”

Underneath his hesitance is an accusation, like Akechi knows much more than he lets on; he can’t be  _ this _ oblivious to Akira’s feelings. 

“Crow I’ve been dreaming about fucking you since July.  _ Yes _ , I’m sure.” Akechi still hesitates, but his grip tightens ever so slightly. Time to pull out his trump card: “What, are you scared you won’t be as good?”

Akechi’s eyes flash, never failing to rise to a challenge. His perfect, angelic smile coupled with a light laugh sends a chill down Akira’s spine. “I’m more concerned that I’ll ruin you for anyone else,” he croons. 

“Bold claim. I hope you’ll provide evidence to back it up, detective.” Akira’s grin doesn’t last long when Akechi brings his wrists up above him, transferring them into one hand so that he can cup him through his pants. He whines when his hand moves to squeeze his ass, and he bucks his hips trying to find any sort of friction.

“With how sensitive you are, I’m certain I won’t be lacking any,” he says in between peppering kisses along his jaw, moving towards one of his ears. His fingers trail up until they reach the edge of his pants, then slip inside. He brushes one against the cleft of his ass. “When was the last time you…” he trails off.

“Fucked? Last week,” Akira answers shamelessly. Akechi’s reaction wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he was hoping for, no red face or spluttering to tease him over. Instead, his eyes darken and a finger circles his entrance, barely applying any pressure. Akira pushes back against him, desperately needing to feel him. “There’s a relax gel in my pocket,” he points out.

Akechi retracts both his hands to search for it, and Akira seizes the opportunity to take both his pants and boxers off. He obediently keeps his hands braced against the wall once Akechi finishes slicking his fingers. “Since July, you say.” He lifts one of his legs, prodding one finger in. “That’s an awful long time. Were you using this… person, during that?”

Akira nods, biting his lip to keep any noises from escaping his mouth.

“Were you imagining me?” Akechi adds a second finger after getting the first knuckle deep in.

“Every time,” he manages to get out with a gasp when he scissors his fingers. “More,” he demands.

“Hold your thigh up,” he orders, to which Akira immediately complies to. He wraps a hand around Akira’s cock, slowly pumping him as he works in a third finger. “Did you moan out my name?”

“Yes.” Akira nods several times. He latches his free hand onto Akechi’s shoulder, keeping himself from almost falling over when his fingers curl.

“ _ Every _ time?” Akechi asks, movements growing more frantic and driving Akira close to the edge already.

Akira bites his tongue, choking back a moan. “ _ Yes _ ,” he lies, trying not to think about how he’d moaned his enemy’s unofficial name without any shame last week. “Fuck! Akechi please, I need you now!”

“Done with code names, Kurusu?” He continues to thrust his fingers in and out, stretching and curling them. “Oh, my apologies,” he exclaims, fake concern dripping from his voice. “Does this mystery person know who you  _ really  _ are?”

“Uhh, I,  _ ah! _ Don’t know,” Akira admits in between pants. He writhes when Akechi’s hand tightens around his dick, his own hold on his leg growing shaky. “Probably! He—yeah, probably—ah!” It’s getting increasingly hard to think thanks to Akechi’s skilled hands playing his body so easily. “Please I’m ready!  _ Fuck!  _ Akechi please,” he whines.

“You wanted this, so we’re doing it  _ my _ way. Keep your leg up.” Akechi keeps a vice like grip on his dripping cock, fingers rubbing over his prostate until Akira’s quivering. Only when he’s begging and babbling incoherently does he remove his fingers and align his cock.

“Wait! Are you just—“ Akira cuts himself off as the entirety of Akechi’s cock fills him up. His vision goes white as he cums, Akechi stroking him through it. The sensation continues as Akechi starts fucking into him, overstimulation keeping him straddling the line between pain and pleasure. Strings of profanities and Akechi’s name leave his lips, and he desperately clutches onto him, dropping his own leg in the process.

“Focus Kurusu!” Akechi growls in his ear. “We’re not done yet.” He slows down his thrusts to hook his arms underneath Akira’s legs, hoisting him up against the wall and feeling Akira slump against him, panting heavily. “How is it? As good as you imagined?”

“Better,” he moans out. “So g-good!” He wraps both his arms and legs around him. “Don’t stop! You’re so good,” he says in between moans and gasps. He’s already hard again.

“Say my name,” Akechi demands in a frenzy.

“Goro…! Ah! Goro—yes! More!“

“ _ Again _ ,” he snaps. 

Akira can hardly focus on what he’s spewing out of his mouth. “ _ Goro!  _ Goro—ah,  _ fuck _ , Goro—!”

He almost misses the sound Akechi makes; his voice angelic despite the strain tingeing it, a shout of  _ Akira! _ following it as he rides out his orgasm with shallow yet frantic thrusts. He pulls out as he lowers Akira back onto the ground, then roughly grabs his cock and strokes him until he cums a second time. They stay pressed up against each other for several moments, as Akira doubts he can stand on his own. 

“Goro…” Akira sighs, coming down from his high. He slinks to the ground, legs completely giving out when Akechi steps back.

“Are you alright?” Akechi asks, his tone falling back into his prince facade. “I… apologize if I overdid it. There’s just something about you that—never mind,” he cuts himself off with a soft laugh. “You’re truly something special.” 

Akira knows exactly what Akechi is doing and he  _ hates  _ it, especially after having gotten a taste of who might be really under the mask. His voice is perfectly precise in both pitch and tone, that and the empty words of flattery—he’s putting the distance they crossed back between them.

“Kurusu…?”

Akira shakily pushes himself up to stand, shuddering at the feeling of Akechi’s cum sliding down his thighs. He looks at him to find him staring at his thighs, his tv perfect smile clashing with the clear  _ want _ in his eyes. “I’m fine,” Akira says once he finds his voice again.

“We’d best be going then.” Akechi at least has the decency to wait for him to get his pants on before leaving Mementos without sparing another glance.

* * *

  
  
  


Akira goes to Mementos the next day without a plan.

“Why are you here?” Black Mask’s voice is laced with venom under the modifier. 

Akira stares at him. “You know why.”

“You got what you wanted from your  _ dear detective _ , so why the fuck are you here Joker?”

“What do you mean—“

“ _ Don’t  _ play coy with me,” he growls. Black Mask stalks over to him, rips his vest with his talons until he finds what he’s looking for. He digs a talon into a dark bruise, causing Akira to hiss in response. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know what you were up to last night?”

Akira’s not sure why he thought Black Mask wouldn’t find out when he  _ knows _ he’s been stalking him for months now. God, he really wishes he had a plan for once.

“Well Joker?” He drags his talons up and across his throat, tipping his chin up to force eye contact. “Why. The fuck. Are you. Here,” he enunciates each word. 

Akira swallows thickly. He opens his mouth to answer but he can’t seem to form a response. 

“Did you get bored of him? Finished using him after finally getting what you wanted, just like everyone else in your pathetic following.” His hand wanders down to Akira’s pants, squeezing him roughly. “You’re lucky that  _ I’m  _ not done using  _ you.” _

Akira bites his fist to stifle a moan as Black Mask unzips his pants and pulls him out, stroking him once before pushing his pants and boxers down fully. 

“None of that now.” He yanks his fist away. “What? Are you worried someone will hear you? You didn’t seem to care the last time when you screamed  _ my name _ .” He pushes Akira down onto his knees, then fiddles with his outfit until his semi-hard cock comes out. “I’ll give you something to occupy your mouth. Open wide Joker.”

Akira doesn’t think twice about opening his mouth. He welcomes Black Mask’s cock in, alternating between swirling his tongue and sucking to get him fully hard. He lets his jaw go slack, knowing that he prefers fucking his throat over a proper blowjob.

“Look at yourself, obedient and trained like a dog just for me. Should I bring a collar next time?” He wraps one hand around his throat in a loose grip, looking him over like he’s actually entertaining the thought. “You look good like this. Put in your proper place beneath me.”

He should absolutely  _ not _ be getting turned on by this, but his cock always seems to have a mind of its own whenever he’s down here with him. He moans around him, hearing Black Mask swear from the vibrations. A hand grabs his hair to keep him in place as his cock forces its way past Akira’s gag reflex. He’s gotten much better at not choking. 

Black Mask tilts his head down, indicating that he’s noticed Akira’s shameful erection. “No wonder you weren’t satisfied. He could never give someone as depraved as you—getting off to choking on my cock—what you need.” 

Akira wants to protest, to defend Akechi, but he can’t completely deny it. He blinks the tears that formed in his eyes away, doing his best to focus on breathing as his throat gets abused. He flinches when Black Mask removes Akira’s mask, throwing it carelessly aside and leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable despite still being clothed. His cheeks get wiped of his tears. 

“Don’t cry, Joker, I’ll take care of you.” It was almost tender, if he could ignore the way it sounded more like a threat than a reassurance.

Akira can tell he’s getting close by how his breathing grows heavier and his thrusts become more erratic. He should be ashamed at how attuned he is to his body, but Akira threw away all his shame the moment he agreed to this. He coughs and pants when Black Mask yanks his dick out of his mouth. He watches as he strokes himself to completion, and his hazy mind registers what’s happening just in time to close his eyes. Ribbons of cum paint his face, his open mouth only catching drops as most of it lands above on his cheeks and even some in his hair. 

“This is a much better look on you.” He tilts Akira’s head in an appraising manner. 

_ Asshole _ , Akira thinks as he wipes his eyes. He can feel some of it clinging to his lashes still as he opens them to look up. Just to get a reaction, he drags a finger through the mess, scooping up more before bringing it to his mouth. He blinks when he finds himself suddenly on his back, Black Mask pinning him to the floor. 

“You little slut. You have  _ no idea _ how much I want to  _ wreck  _ you. Always so confident and cocky.  _ I’m going to fuck you up.” _

His pants are ripped off of him, the fabric tearing in Black Mask’s haste to get them off. Akira flinches when a talon circles his entrance; Black Mask has never kept his gauntlets on this long, and Akira doesn’t know if he even wants him to take them off at this point. He spreads his legs, an open invitation for him to do as he pleases. His whine when Black Mask pulls away is short lived as cold, slick metal pushes inside him with ease. He’s still loose from last night, and it seems like the same thought crosses Black Mask’s mind as he immediately inserts another.

“I barely need to stretch you, in fact I bet your greedy little hole would just suck me in. Shall we find out, Joker?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a response. He slicks up his still wet cock before aligning and burying himself to the hilt. He thrusts once, experimentally. “Just as I thought,” he says, the modifications barely covering up the strain in his voice.

“Ah…  _ Ah!” _ It’s all too much when he starts moving in earnest. His legs are hauled over Black Mask’s shoulders, almost bending him in half. He can feel his talons digging into his thighs, not deep enough to draw blood but definitely enough to bruise. Blindly reaching for his cock has his hand slapped away and pinned to the ground. He whines loudly.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I’ll restrain them.” He releases his wrist and tugs one of his belts free as a threat. “You’ll either cum from this or  _ not at all _ .”

Akira nods but cries out at the unfair treatment. He obediently keeps his hands where they are, not wanting to risk having to explain the angry marks his wrists would no doubt receive. His back arches off the floor and his heels dig into Black Mask’s back as his fucks deeper into him. A string of breathy moans leave his mouth, Akechi’s name slipping out once. 

Black Mask picks up on it, hands tightening their grip as he looms over him until the sharp point of his mask is inches away from Akira’s eyes. “Did you think about me last night? Did you wish it were me fucking you?” he hisses. 

Akira can hardly comprehend what he’s saying through the pure ecstasy each of Black Mask’s harsh thrusts bring. “ _ Yes...! _ ” he cries out. “Fuck—I  _ ahh _ ! I’m so—“ Everything goes dark as a hand covers his eyes, lips crashing against his a moment later. The sharp point of his mask brushes against his throat and a tongue prods incessantly into his mouth, licking its way around the inside. Black Mask tastes familiar in a way; the lingering traces of black coffee having Akira greedily press his tongue back against his, kissing back fiercely and getting high off of the sensation. 

“ _ Ngh,” _ Black Mask grunts when they part for air. “ _ Joker _ —“ he uncovers his eyes, mask securely in place and once again blocking Akira from gathering anymore clues—“I’m going to…  _ fuck—I’m going to cum inside you _ .”

Akira claws at the ground as his thrusts grow frantic until he stills his hips and groans. The hot sensation itself nearly drives Akira over the edge, but it’s the strangled version of  _ his name _ that does it. Not Joker, not Kurusu, but unmistakably  _ Akira _ .

Hysterical laughter covers up the sound of heavy breaths. “ _ Incredible!  _ You actually came untouched,” he mocks, though almost sounds impressed. “I’m sure your  _ dear detective _ couldn’t manage that,” he spits out venomously and pulls out. 

Akira merely lets out a sound between a groan and a keening whine, still trying to catch his breath. He runs a hand through his hair and makes a face when he feels how crusty it is.

Black Mask chuckles and tucks himself away. “I’ll see you next week.” He looks at Akira, who has raised himself to his elbows, then turns away to exit the floor. “Have fun dealing with that in public.”

**Author's Note:**

> My [twit](https://twitter.com/SpoooKyra)


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